A certain gun smith who is of British heritage and who subsequently moved to BC (ahem, no names, no pack drill, I saw him post here once or twice

)......did some work for me on Franchi semi-auto 12 ga. The Franchi (model 48 IIRC) was a VERY light-weight shotgun, great for waterfowl hunting when we could still use lead shot. But the (full choke) barrel was too thin to bore out for modified, so I decided to have it cut down for a slug gun. The alleged gunsmith who knew everything :roll: cut and crowned my gun, and also at my request mounted a standard Weaver rail, rings and scope. When I got the gun back from him he told me that the scope installation was permanent, and I could never turn this back into a waterfowl gun. :!: No problem, that was why I paid him to cut it and set it up as a slug gun.
Sighting in said gun I was by myself way the hell at the back of a buddy's property. I sighted in buddy's rifle, then one for myself, then set up another target to sight in the 12 ga. First round was slightly high. Second round was slightly high also and touching round #1. Just to confirm the shots before making a scope adjustment, I aimed about three inches low for shot #3. I had the impression that there was a bit of an explosion, and I could not see the target properly. :?: (I shoot with both eyes open). Then I noticed that it seemd to be raining, as my face was getting quite wet. :?: Then I noticed that there was no scope on my gun. :? Then I noticed that I was bleeding like a stuck pig. :shock: Then I saw the scope and rings and rail about six feet from me............. :shock: :shock: :shock:
The scope, etc had left the gun, rather forcibly I might add, shearing three of the mounting screws and bending the other two at about a 45 degree angle. Said scope departed the gun, caught me square between the peepers, opened me up to the skull, and bounced about six feet off my skull.
Well I had some toilet paper in my coat (of course) so got that onto the wound, picked up my three empties just in case it was an ammo accident, put the guns in cases, and called my buddy on my cell phone, then drove his Argo back out to his house.
It could easily have killed me, but all that happened was a bunch of stitches, some inside and some outside, a few weeks of migraines and double vision, and a permanent scar.
And the smith refused to return my calls or letters, so I dealt with his insurance company, who agreed that pain, suffering, a blown-up gun, and permanent disfigurement were worth a few shekels. And it also ended my TV career.....
Doug